


Condemnation

by Sashataakheru



Series: Brothers In Christ [3]
Category: The Move RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Angst, Community: kink_bingo, Flogging, Georgian Period, Internalised Homophobia, Other, POV First Person, Penance - Freeform, Punishment, Religious Guilt, Self-Harm, Solo Kink, rope floggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 17:44:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sashataakheru/pseuds/Sashataakheru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles, son of the third Earl of Aylesford, is troubled by his sinful nature. Discovering his desires for intimacy with other men, Charles finds himself conflicted and anguished, unable to find a way to reconcile his feelings, and his faith. Shedding blood for Christ may not be enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Condemnation

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 'ropes/chains' & 'penance/punishment' for kink_bingo round six. My card is [here](http://3evilmuses.dreamwidth.org/68713.html).
> 
> Part of a magical Georgian steampunk AU, most of which I wrote for NaNo, and haven't had the chance to tidy up to the point where I feel it is good enough to post. 
> 
> Carl, here, is playing Charles Telford, 4th Earl of Aylesford, in his younger years, before he succeeded to the Earldom. Set around 1755-ish, when Charles is about 17-18? References/is referenced in [Brothers In Christ: A Soldier's Love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/767551).

I punish myself every night. I do not know how to cleanse myself of these evil desires. I do not know why I suffer from them so badly. I suffer dreadful nightmares, and I wake up aroused, knowing my night terrors have given me pleasure. It is too awful to think about, to know I am, in my dreams, enjoying being intimate with other men. I am never sure quite who they are, but it does not matter. I am tempted, and I give in.

I have been like this my whole life, I fear. Cursed with such foul desires that seep into my skin, into my very being. It is an illness I cannot be rid of. I fight against it every day. I know it is sinful; it is wrong to seek intimacy with another man. My heart aches, knowing I may never feel the grace of God. I am an abomination in His eyes.

I wish to be at peace with myself, to stop struggling with these thoughts and desires, and the contradictions they cause with my faith in Christ. I wish to feel God's love, for how could He possibly turn His face from me as one of His creations? If He created me in His own image, what does that say about me? How can I be cast aside by mortal men as sinful if He is I and I is He?

But surely it is absurd to think that. Blasphemous, perhaps. To suggest that God possesses such unnatural desires would be heresy. I am inflicted with sin, and it must be cast out. That is the proper explanation.

It brings me cold comfort to think it, though. I am always offering penance to the Lord, begging forgiveness for my sins. I do not know when He will relieve me of my transgressions, and accept me as one of His children. I fear I may be punished my whole life for this, never being given the knowledge as to how I have come to be this way. I do not remember what sin I could have committed as a babe such that God would curse me in such a way. What could my mother have done if God chose to curse me in her womb? 

It leaves me grieft-stricken and lost, unsure of what to do with myself. I beg for forgiveness every night as I punish myself. I wear the accursed rope around my waist to remind me of what I must do. I shed blood for Christ as He shed blood for me. Perhaps, one day, it may be enough.

It is such an ugly thing, this piece of rope. It is coarse and common, stolen from the stables. It is not very long, but it is two fingers thick. It cuts into my back, bruising and bleeding me. I feel it is the hand of God, reaching out to punish His sinner. Only, I am inflicting the pain on myself, because I can think of no other way to punish myself for my desires. Always they taunt me, and always I find them desirable. 

I feel the rope cutting into my waist as I wear it. I feel it cut into my back. I have seen the biting scars it leaves behind, the signs of my penance. I fear I may need to go on a pilgrimage next year, if this accursed illness does not leave me alone. I will walk the length and breadth of this country, atoning for my sins. It is all I can do, the least I can do, to make up for this curse that has befallen me.

This evil snake binds me to my promises. She binds me, stained with my blood. She bites, she bleeds me, she offers my confessions to God. I resist her, because I wonder why I must cast these demons out from my body. I wonder why I was born this way, with these evil desires. I cannot imagine I am beyond salvation. I cannot believe I am in some way deficient or some sort of clay doll, made in Satan's image, not God's. Yet why should I be made to feel like this? Why does God hate me for being this way? Am I not part of God's creation? Am I not one of His children? I will never be perfect, but surely, God cannot hate a man for embracing that which brings him joy and pleasure in this world. 

But I am not brave enough to think such things aloud, let alone in the company of others. I am risking heresy if I dare to voice such things. I would be cast down, exiled, and I would be ruined. And yet, would it be worth it if I did not feel the need to punish myself for this? I have lost count of the strokes I have given myself over the years. It does not seem to help. Always, I feel bathed in sin, unable to be clean. She will always bite me, that snake who tempted Eve and led her into sin. I will bear her pain, because I cannot think of another way to atone for my sins. I hate feeling this way. It has brought me a deep melancholy that troubles me greatly. But I feel trapped, unable to find a way through to find peace with myself, and with God. Until I find my way out, I fear I will be trapped in this maze of confliction, hurt and grieving, confused, and ashamed, unable to find any joy in the world.


End file.
